


Pretty in Pink

by Alisanne



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-08-05
Updated: 2012-08-05
Packaged: 2018-02-04 17:03:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,636
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1786564
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Alisanne/pseuds/Alisanne
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Draco looks disturbingly comfortable undercover.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Pretty in Pink

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Daily Deviant's August 2012 challenge. 
> 
> **Warnings** : Rimming, very little actual plot.
> 
> **Themes/kinks chosen** : crossdressing and pygophilia (arousal from touching, licking, kissing, etc. the buttocks or from rubbing one's own buttocks against a partner's). 
> 
> **Author's notes** : Thanks to Sevfan for beta reading and to sdk for giving me her assistance when I thought I'd forgotten how to write these two. ;) 
> 
> **Disclaimer:** The characters contained herein are not mine. No money is being made from this fiction, which is presented for entertainment purposes only.

~

Pretty in Pink

~

“Wow.” Ron whistled. “You look really natural in that skirt, Malfoy. Pink’s definitely your colour.” 

Not looking away from the mirror, Draco held up two fingers in reply. Despite being clad in a short pink skirt topped with a black corset edged in pink lace, he did look quite comfortable. The outfit was completed by black, lace-topped thigh-high stockings that made his already long legs look incredible. 

“Oh that’s mature,” Ron said, double checking his wand holster. 

Ignoring Ron, Draco pursed his lips as he began carefully applying some very red lipstick. His hair, usually worn pulled back, was flowing over his shoulders and back. “You wouldn’t recognise maturity if it walked up and smacked you in the face, Weasley,” he said, sounding bored.

“Is that so?” Ron frowned. “Hey, how come you never wear red?” 

“Because it’s boring.” Looking down, Draco slipped his stockinged feet into black heels that had to have been at least five inches high. Striking a pose, he blew himself a kiss in the mirror.

Ron laughed. “Seems to me you must have had lots of practice walking in high heels, too. I’d fall right off those things.” 

“No doubt you would,” Draco agreed, adjusting his very short skirt. “Not all of us are completely inept, however.”

“I dunno. What do you think, Harry? Doesn’t Malfoy look quite fetching in a skirt?” 

Harry, who’d been staring at Draco’s very shapely arse in said skirt, jumped as Ron smacked his arm. “Huh? What?” 

Ron rolled his eyes. “Come on, mate. Are you even paying attention?” 

“Of course.” Swallowing hard, Harry tore his gaze from Draco’s legs and arse, holding up their assignment parchment. “I was just going over the plan for this sting operation. Once Santorini approaches you, Draco, make sure you get him to proposition you and then we’ll have him.” 

“And you’re sure he’ll go for Draco?” Ron asked, turning serious. “He’s a potion smuggler.” 

“A potion smuggler with a thing for blonds.” Harry smiled. “He’ll take the bait; Draco’s just his type, and his profile indicates he likes to...pay for company.”

“And now you see why I chose Potter as my partner for this case, Weasley. He does his homework.” Draco adjusted his corset before spinning to face them. “More cleavage, you think?” 

Harry’s eyes widened, his mouth going dry. “Looks fine to me,” he managed.

“Yeah, whatever,” Ron muttered turning away. “Guess I’d better go and get into position at the site. Try not to give the game away immediately, all right, Malfoy?” 

Draco snorted. “Just do your job, Weasley, and I’ll do mine.” 

Once Ron was gone, Harry licked his lips, unsure exactly where to look. Draco ignored him, turning back towards the mirror for one last primp. “You really think I look...fine?” he murmured, smoothing his hands over his hips and striking a pose. 

Harry’s head snapped up and he stared at the back of Draco’s head. “What?” he asked, his gaze dropping involuntarily to Draco’s arse. The sound of a throat being cleared made him jump guiltily as he met Draco’s eyes in the mirror. “I suppose.”

Spinning gracefully, Draco sauntered past him. “I’ll take that as a yes.” Then, pausing at the door, he said, “Well? What are you waiting for? You’re supposed to cover my arse on this sting, remember?” 

Harry almost groaned. It was going to be a long night. 

~

“He looks unnaturally comfortable standing on a street corner, don’t you think?” Ron hissed in Harry’s ear. “He hardly even needed any makeup.” 

Harry rolled his eyes. “Will you shut it?” he whispered back, wishing for a moment that the Ministry’s Stake-Out Communication Spell was slightly less easy to use. “You’ll give our position away!” 

“Don’t be ridiculous.” Ron sighed. “I’m better than that. Plus, this perp won’t be able to hear us. He’s just a lowlife smuggler and would-be rapist.” 

“He could still hurt Draco,” Harry growled. “So until we get him, we need to be careful.” 

“Yeah, yeah.” Ron was silent for a moment. “So he looks disturbingly good in bird’s clothes, doesn’t he? Just a bit of makeup and a skirt and he makes a passable girl.” 

He did, but just then Harry really wished Ron would shut up about it. “Would you please keep your mind on the job?” He smirked, suddenly knowing how to shut Ron up. “And you’re married, remember? Hermione will skin you if she thinks you’re interested in Draco.” 

“I’m not--” 

“You two _do_ realise I can hear you, yes?” Draco’s voice was low, amused. “Now, if you’re done discussing me and my sartorial skills, could you concentrate on the case? Our suspect is approaching and I’d like my backup to be paying attention.” 

Harry bit back a chuckle and, shifting, he looked up and down the street. Both he and Ron were well hidden by shadows, since, just like Draco, they couldn’t use any detectable magic lest the criminal they were hunting be tipped off. “Where?” 

Draco, who’d been leaning up against a pole, stretched sensually, his skirt riding up enough to show a curve of arse cheek. Harry swallowed hard, his cock filling so fast that it began to press almost painfully against his trousers. 

“He’s coming now,” Draco murmured, and for a moment Harry wasn’t sure which ‘he’ Draco meant. “Get ready.”

Santorini, clad in his signature in silk robes, approached Draco and murmured something too soft for the Stake-Out Communication Spell to pick up. Draco smiled flirtatiously, parting his red lips as he leaned forward to press a palm flat on the man’s chest. Harry’s hands tightened into fists. 

_Hurry up_! Harry thought, eyes boring holes into Santorini’s back. _Say it, you scum. Say it--_

“So,” Santorini purred, the slimy tone in his voice making Harry’s skin crawl. “How much for a couple of hours of hot, sweaty sex with you, gorgeous?” 

Draco smiled and even from his hidden vantage point, Harry saw the cold expression in his eyes. “Maybe a bit more than you can afford, actually.” 

“Oh, darlin’.” Santorini placed a hand on Draco’s arse, sliding it up under the pink skirt. “I can afford quite a lot.”

“No thanks.” Draco tried to move away, but Santorini grasped his wrist. “I said no.” 

“No one tells me no!” 

_That’s it._ “Now!” Harry snapped, brandishing his wand, watching with satisfaction the way Santorini’s eyes widened as ropes encircled him, immobilising him. Striding forward, Harry smiled grimly when he saw that Santorini had recognised him. “By the statutes of the Ministry of Magic, you are under arrest for attempted unlawful solicitation and attempted assault.” 

“How dare you?” Santorini shouted, clearly outraged. “This is persecution! I am a legitimate businessman--”

“Then you won’t mind if we search you,” Harry interrupted. 

Santorini looked panicked. “You can’t! You have no right--”

Ron coughed. “Actually, as you have been arrested on suspicion of a crime, we can.” 

As Ron dragged a stunned and irate Santorini away, Harry turned towards Draco. “Are you all right? He didn’t hurt you, did he?” 

Draco shrugged, rubbing his wrist as he slipped off his high heels. “These things are bloody murder on feet,” he grumbled. “And I’m fine. Nothing a hot shower won’t fix.” 

“You’re sure?” 

Draco eyed him carefully. “Trust me, if I were hurt I’d be the first one to demand to see a Healer. I’m fine.” Bending over, he picked up the shoes, the movement exposing a significant portion of his arse to Harry’s very interested gaze. 

Harry’s erection, which had deflated slightly with the excitement of putting Santorini in custody, immediately began to throb. 

“Although,” Draco continued, straightening up, “I wouldn’t say no if someone offered to scrub my back.” 

It took Harry a moment to process that. “What?” 

“Having hearing problems, Harry?” Draco sauntered away towards the Apparation point. “You may want to get your ears checked, Harry. After all, you never know when you may miss something...interesting.”

~

Sadly, nothing particularly interesting happened when Harry followed Draco back to the Ministry. As usual, they filled out their reports to send to their supervisor, and since they’d been involved in the arrest, they had to be present for the interrogation as well. 

Draco didn’t bother to change, however; he just pulled on robes over his corset and skirt. Unfortunately, Harry’s cock didn’t care that he could no longer see the skirt, it continued clamouring for attention, and Harry spent several painful minutes beside Draco as Robards quizzed Santorini. 

Fortunately, searching Santorini had proved fruitful, and having recovered several illegal potion ingredients and some damning paperwork documenting his involvement in several shady businesses from his robes, Santorini made a full confession. 

When, forty minutes later, they left the interrogation room, Harry eyed Draco. “So, What now?” 

“Now I get out of this outfit.” Draco sighed. “I don’t mind corsets or even skirts, but I really hate stockings.” 

Caught up in the imagery, Harry swallowed hard. “Still need someone to scrub your back?” 

Eyebrow raised, Draco opened his mouth to reply, but was interrupted.

“Malfoy!” Both Harry and Draco stopped and spun to face Robards, who was walking up behind them. “I need to speak with you.” 

“Of course.” Draco moved away from Harry. “Later, Harry,” he tossed over his shoulder.

Irritated, Harry stalked off to his desk. Sexual frustration made him speed through his backlog of paperwork until, done, he growled and sat back from his desk. _I should go home and wank._ Yet something told him it would be less than satisfying.

“Oi, did Malfoy find you, mate?” Ron stuck his head into Harry’s office. “He was looking for you a few minutes ago.” 

Harry’s head snapped up. “Draco was?” 

“Yeah. Said he was going to the locker room.” Ron grinned. “I guess that skirt was finally starting to get to him.” 

_God I hope not,_ Harry thought as he hurried towards the lockers. Since it was evening, most of the other Aurors were gone for the night; only the late night shift were left. 

“Draco?” he whispered as he slipped inside. The room was dark and it took his eyes a few moments to adjust. 

“I’m in here.” 

The soft words seemed to come from all around Harry, and as he groped his way in the direction of the showers, he wondered what game Draco was playing. 

When Harry walked around the corner, however, the sight that greeted him made his jaw drop. Draco, in the skirt and nothing else, was leaning over a sink, wiping makeup off his face. “Do you know what a sodding disaster this stuff is to get off?” he asked. 

“No, actually,” Harry said, swallowing hard. 

Draco shifted, widening his stance, and for a moment Harry could see a tantalising hint of his bits. A low moaned slipped from Harry’s throat. “Yes, I knew it was a good idea to keep the skirt,” Draco finally murmured.

Harry’s gaze shifted to meet Draco’s in the mirror. “I certainly think it was,” he agreed, tone husky. 

Draco licked his lips. “Well, well. You _are_ a kinky sod, Harry.”

Harry inclined his head. “Yes, I suppose that’s true,” he agreed, moving closer. 

“Although I _am_ beginning to wonder if you’re just going to stare at me all evening or if you’re going to do anything,” Draco said, a challenging look on his face. “After all, I’ve been waiting for you for a while.”

Within seconds, Harry was pressed against Draco, his hands groping beneath that infuriating, tantalising skirt to find silky, soft, bare skin. “Merlin, but you have a fantastic arse,” Harry growled, pressing his mouth to Draco’s neck.

Draco laughed softly even as he arched his back, pushing said arse back firmly against Harry’s cock. “Nice of you to say so. I do consider it one of my best features.” 

“You can’t have missed the way I’ve been looking at you,” Harry whispered, his thumbs slowly pushing Draco’s arse cheeks apart. After casting a quick Cleaning and Lubrication Charm, he continued, “And when you showed up tonight in this bloody skirt I went a bit, well, mad.”

“Liked that, did you?” Draco gasped as Harry’s thumb slowly circled his pucker. “Mmm, yes, I guess you did.” He laughed, the laugh morphing into a moan as Harry squeezed his arse cheeks. “You really _do_ have a thing for my arse, don’t you?” 

“God, yes,” Harry groaned, dropping to his knees. He licked a line along one cheek, smiling as Draco started to tremble. Leaning in, he inhaled. 

“Salazar,” Draco groaned, whimpering. 

Swiping his tongue across the sensitive skin, Harry hummed as Draco shuddered and pressed back. Rimming wasn’t something he typically craved, but Draco’s arse really had driven him mad all night. _It’s time I made him suffer._

Draco smelled and tasted like a combination of rare spices and musk, not at all bad, and Harry, relishing the guttural, needy noises he was making, buried his face between Draco’s cheeks. Pointing his tongue, he slid it into Draco, coaxing the guardian muscles open. 

“Fuck, Harry.” Draco was begging, and it was lovely to hear. Shaking with his own need, Harry redoubled his tongue movements. Draco was always so self-possessed that having him fall apart because of something Harry was doing was rather...heady.

Drawing back, Harry began to slide first one finger, then two inside Draco, stretching him, preparing him.

“Will you just fuck me already?” Draco growled. From his angle, Harry could see he was clutching the edge of the sink, his hand and arm muscles straining.

“Well, since you asked so nicely--” Standing, Harry fumbled with his fly. 

“Having a little problem?” Draco purred, smirking at Harry in the mirror. 

“Not so little,” Harry countered, their gazes meeting and locking as he positioned himself and thrust firmly.

Draco’s eyes fluttered closed. “Mmm, I suppose not,” he whispered. “Lovely. Now will you hurry up and fuck me?” 

Harry smirked. “Slower did you say?” he asked, somehow making his thrusts less urgent despite the demands of his own body. 

“Do not...Salazar...make me...oh fuck...hex you,” Draco panted out. 

Unable to tease any longer, Harry sped up, driving as hard as he could into Draco, leaving finger-shaped bruises on the skin of Draco’s thighs. He could feel the edge of the skirt brushing against his hands and, looking down, stared at where their bodies were joined. Something about the sight of the crumpled material of the skirt made heat twist inside him and he groaned low. “God, you should...see how you look...in this fucking skirt--”

Draco half-laughed, half moaned softly. “How do I look?” 

“Bloody brilliant,” Harry growled, redoubling his efforts to make Draco see stars. Moving in and out, he felt sensation rising from his core and, knowing he was close, he shut his eyes, gasping as his orgasm ripped through him. 

Draco, bent over the sink, had moved his hand to his cock and was frantically wanking himself. Harry, sated, nevertheless managed to move his hand so that it was covering Draco’s. At Harry’s touch, Draco tensed as, with a groan, he came, his cock pulsing come all over the sink. 

Panting, Draco leaned against the sink, and Harry leaned against him as they both caught their breath. “So I take it you really did like my outfit.” 

Face buried in Draco’s neck, Harry grinned. “It was okay.” 

Draco snorted. “Glad you think so since I just got our next assignment.”

Harry raised his head. “Oh?”

“Yes, that was what Robards came to tell me.” Their eyes met again in the mirror. Draco smiled. “This time, _you’re_ wearing the skirt.” 

Harry sighed. “Fine.” He frowned. “It doesn’t have to be pink, does it?” 

Draco smirked. “I’ve always thought you’d look good in Slytherin green, actually.” 

“You wish,” Harry chuckled. 

~


End file.
